DISCLAIMER: These characters belong to Ryan Murphy and the WB. No infringement is intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was inspired by comments made about another drabble where Brooke was a little territorial. I believe someone said about Brooke ‘marking her territory...’ and it went downhill from there.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
The Jellyfish Drabble
“Brooke, it really burns.” Sam whined. Their trip to Cape Cod to visit an old friend from college had taken a turn for the worst.
“I know,” Brooke replied. “I’m working on it.” She untied the laces holding her bikini bottom, and straddled Sam’s thigh where the skin stung by the jellyfish had already turned a mottled red. “Are you sure this is going to work? Where did you hear about this?”
There was silence from her partner.
“Sam?” Brooke narrowed her eyes. God help her if she says that episode of ‘Friends’...
“There was this episode of ‘Friends’,” Sam admitted meekly, “and Monica--
“Samantha McQueen-McPherson!” Brooke growled through clenched teeth. “I’m naked from the waist down at a PUBLIC BEACH because Joey peed on Monica?”
“It burns, Brooke,” Sam pleaded. “I don’t know what else to do! Friends is the only jellyfish reference I have!”
The blonde rolled her eyes. “Okay, Okay.” Sammy was in pain. Sammy needed her.
Sammy shouldn’t have swam where Brooke told Sammy not to swim! her mind argued.
“Can you hurry?” the brunette beseeched her.
“It's not--” Brooke huffed. “Look, peeing in public-peeing on someone in public-isn’t as easy as you think!”
Sam hunched up on her elbow, and peeked over her shoulder at the spectacle.
“Don’t look!” Brooke complained.
“Brooke,” Sam suggested reasonably. “It’s not like I haven’t seen it a million ti--”
“I know you have, but this is different!”
“JUST LOOK AT SOMETHING ELSE!!”
“Okay, okay!” Sam acquiesced. “Jeez.”
Satisfied that Sam wasn’t going to look, Brooke concentrated on the task at hand-and then realized it would work better if she thought of anything but. After a moment contemplating whether she preferred the Cape Cod or Craftsman style of architecture, Brooke felt the release of pressure and heard the trickling on Sam’s skin.
It lasted for an embarrassingly long time.
“Yes, Sam?” she answered, trying to keep her tone even.
“This is kind of erotic,” Sam admitted.
Brooke just rolled her eyes: “You’re such a dumbass.”
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